Just Desserts
by Sneventeen
Summary: An amnesiac Dipper must fight to recover the truth after a tragic accident leaves him with little to no memories. Rated T for violence, mild language, and assumed character death. Finally off hiatus! :)
1. I'm a Ruin

Soooo.. hey. This is sorta my first time writing a fanfiction, so I'm going to try and explain this weird fantasy I've been creating in my head. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it an alternate ending to Sock Opera, but it's really up to you- the reader! You can interpret where this all fits in any way you'd like. Basically, what happens is.. well, I won't spoil anything. This is sort of like just a chapter? Or a prologue? Eh.. I'm not too sure. Why did I name this fanfiction Just Desserts? Not too sure myself. Well, uh, I hope you like it!

\- - Story Begins Below - -

**"Mabel!"** Dipper whimpered as he watched his beloved sister fall to her death, tears spilling down his cheeks. Blood roared in his head, arms going limp as a large 'thud' with a 'crack' reached his ears. His heart pounded in his mind, shaking as he stared down at his lifeless sibling.

He seemed to slow down, breathing choppy and everything going colorless. He turned onto his back, staring out at the world for moments in silence except his own strained sobbing. He slowly stood up, stumbling forward and grabbing hold of the railway. He looked down and shut his eyes, crying out loudly. What was he going to do? She was gone. Forever. He sat there, alone, for what seemed to be a thousand years.

_Alone._

It was such a terrible word to begin with; he had always struggled socially, and envied Mabel for her easy, outgoing personality. He had always felt that way when he was younger, barely getting along with his small circle of friends. This summer had been so great! So many adventures, and though sometimes it was hard to sleep at night with the numerous, terrifying things he had experienced, he had always had one supporter by his side. She had depended on him in unfamiliar situations, as did he- and though her 'wishes' were sometimes random and made little to no sense, he had tried to go with it. He didn't understand that the stupid book he had tried to understand was such a big deal.

He hadn't been truly 'alone' ever once in his life. But now, the guilt, grief, and a million other emotions he couldn't begin to comprehend was eating him up quickly. He ended up hyperventilating, passing out and falling off the raised platform just before the others could get up to him. Pain entered the back of his head sharply, before his vision filled up with tiny black dots. He was out in a matter of seconds, but he could hear an all-too familiar laugh just above him. It was so cold, so cruel, that even that made his mind ring with the terrible echo of that sound.

He remembered a few things in the hospital- there were lots of noises, and lights. Many unfamiliar faces he once knew so well came in to visit him. The food was cold, and the walls were bland, despite the few balloons and flowers that distracted him from the pain. There was an extremely tacky, cheesy poster that he read over and over. It was a little orange kitten, struggling to cling on a tree branch. _'HANG IN THERE, BUDDY!'_ It read, in bright, garish rainbow text. He didn't know how many times he had read it over and over, but whenever someone came in and pointed it out, he would laugh.

He was out in just a few days. He wondered briefly why gifts were even brought to him for such minor injuries, but it had been more serious than he had thought, he guessed. His eyes traced the outlines of the trees ahead as they drove by, occasionally fiddling around with his seat belt. Sometimes, he would turn to see Stan, studying him while he drove in silence. He couldn't tell whether the old man felt guilty for him, or just confused about the whole ordeal in general. In all honesty, Dipper was just as confused as he was.

When they arrived at home, Stan opened the car door for him, and cautiously, held out a hand for Dipper to receive support from. They were both a bit hesitant, though Dipper wasn't really sure why. The grizzled figure was just another strange face now, but he felt like he was.. letting him down. Did that make sense? Maybe it was just his frazzled emotions playing tricks on him. He was walked quickly into a ratty tourist trap, called the _'MYSTERY HACK'_. Or was it _'MYSTERY SHACK'_? The pale boy could barely look down to see a red _'S'_, upside down, in the dirt. It was a while before he was sat down on the sofa, the TV blaring some dumb info-commercial crap. He had to squint to look at the bright light, considering the room was extremely dark.

Stan flopped down next to Dipper, watching him for a while.

**"You should fix that," **Dipper said, obviously wanting to break the silence. It didn't work, because for another five minutes, Stan tried to figure out what the hell his great-nephew was even saying.

**"Fix what?" **The man finally grunted, resting his chin on his sweaty hands as he awaited an answer.

**"The.. the sign thing. It says 'Mystery Hack'. It's 'Mystery Shack'. I saw the S on the ground. You should.. fix it,"**

Stan looked away, chuckling a tiny bit—though it was obviously forced. **"Alright, kid. I'll fix it."**


	2. Teenage Wasteland

Hey! I'm just going to get straight to the point: I'm going to try and update this as often as I can, which might be everyday, could be once every week. I really appreciate the positive feedback my first chapter received, so, here's chapter two! :)

\- Story Begins Below - -

Stan never did fix that sign. Dipper wasn't bothered by it much, but every morning, he'd get out of his bed and look out the window, just to see if anything had changed. It had been a week since the accident, and his memories hadn't changed too much. He got Stan's name down, and his own name, as well. But that was really it.

Today, Stan came in with a small plastic bag. He stared at the empty bed adjacent to it—Mabel's old bed, which made him sting with guilt as he seated himself on it—and said quietly, "**Dipper.**"

The almost-teen looked away from the wall he had been staring at, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"**I, uh, brought you some things.. you might remember them.**" He handed the child the bag, who cautiously snatched it up in his hands and placed it on his lap. He peered inside, taking out an old, weathered book. It had a red, leather cover, with a six-fingered hand that had a '3' in the middle.

It looked familiar, and just tracing the edges with his fingers made him nostalgic. He opened it, flipping through it. He stopped at a page about Gnomes, then at one about Zombies. He closed his eyes, seeing flashes of the past in his mind—but as quickly as they came, they left. He finally turned to the page about Bill Cipher, staring at the images the author had portrayed him by. He felt his throat tighten and his heat skip a beat, beads of sweat glistening in the light.

"**Th—this one. It's..**"

Stan leaned forward, watching his great-nephew with wide eyes. "**It's what?**"

Dipper studied it, his hands almost shaking now as he carefully prodded the picture. He almost felt a burning sensation, and dropped the book onto the floor. He scrambled backwards on the bed, laying his big, frightened eyes on Stan like a spooked animal. "**I don't want to read it anymore..**"

Stan frowned, but nodded to reassure him. He didn't want to open any old wounds for the youngster. He had been through a lot, already—did he even remember Mabel?

Dipper began to look in the bag again, pulling out a white hat, with a blue pine tree on it, blue sides, as well as a blue bill. He held it in his hands, unsure of what this was supposed to mean.

Stan must have seen the look of confusion on Dipper's face, so he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "**This is your hat. You always wore it.. when you first got here, you got to choose a little gift, and, uh, you chose it. Do you remember that?**"

Dipper shook his head, looking at the crappy stitching with a small frown. Pretty stupid decision to choose some silly hat like this.

"**Well, you wanna wear it anyways?**"

"**..no,**"

Stan sighed—that stung a little—and took the hat from Dipper. He looked at it for a while, before putting it on Dipper's head anyways.

Dipper didn't protest, but folded his arms. "**What else is in the bag?**"

It was a few hours before Stan left. He had shown his great nephew a few pictures of Mabel, which made Dipper cry for some reason. He didn't remember his sister, but the way that Stan talked about her.. it made him sad. It made him feel like _he_ had killed her.

It was about nighttime, and the amnesiac had been reading a few mystery novels that Stan had left for him. They were pretty boring—he wondered why he had ever read the things before—and he ended up putting them away halfway through the second chapter.

He glanced at the ground, noticing that Stan had forgotten to take the journal with him. It was still open to the Bill Cipher page, and Dipper couldn't stand it. It took all of his strength to pick it up, and close it, before setting it on Mabel's old bed.

Stan didn't come up to wish him goodnight, which was odd, because he always had. Or maybe it was just since he got out of the hospital? He didn't know.

Dipper drifted in and out of sleep, unable to stay asleep for more than an hour. It was about three in the morning when he had jolted upright in his bed from a nightmare. He couldn't even remember what had been so scary about it—which showed how serious his short-term memory was—and rubbed his tired eyes.

The journal lay on the bed, almost as if it was _calling _to him. He stood up, walking towards it like he was in a trance. He turned on the lights, careful not to make too much noise. He opened the book back to the Bill Cipher page, breathing heavily again as he read over the notes. He remembered Stan saying something about a backlight(which was a surprise since he hardly remembered anything anymore), and turned off the lights again so that he could investigate those blank pages. Nothing of interest, but when he flipped back to Bill's page, there was a tiny note at the bottom. It read,

"_IF BILL IS ALREADY SUMMONED, IT IS POSSIBLE TO BRING HIM TO THE PERSON THAT READS THIS ALOUD:_

_Malum__in triangulum,__existunt__,  
__Trem__tuum__quoniam__non sum__  
__Volo et__exáudi verba mea:__  
__Obsecro__, oro, __mihi optato__potesse__  
__Malum__isosceles__ardere_

_NOTE THAT THIS WILL BRING PAIN TO BOTH THE READER AND BILL HIMSELF. USE WITH EXTREME CAUTION!"_

Did he.. dare?

Dipper frowned, contemplating this. He didn't know if Bill was summoned or not, but, he.. could try, right? It wouldn't do any harm. He had already dealed through enough pain, anyways.

He stood in the darkness, setting the book on the floor and staring at the words for a while. He wasn't too sure how to pronounce them, but once he started, the lines flowed out of his mouth easily—almost as if he had read something similar before.

He expected pain immediately, but for just a moment, nothing happened.

Then, it came. His body felt like it was on fire, and poisoned from the inside out. He didn't even have enough strength to scream as he fell to the ground, pounding his fist on the floor and body twitching as it continued to burn.

He panted, barely able to breath as he finally looked up to see Bill just floating around, doing whatever. _It.. didn't even hurt him? How.._

"_**Easy, kid. I'm a demon. I've been through much worse,"**_

Dipper sat up, the pain subsiding as he stared up at Bill. Right, he could.. read thoughts. That was one thing he could remember about the triangle.

"**Oh.." **It was obvious the amnesiac was terrified of him, from his nervous stature, his estranged tone. Bill noted this, a smug look in his eye... his, uh, eye. He only had one, which made him all the more creepy in this dark room.

"_**So, Pine Tree. What'd you summon me for? Bring back your dead sister? Get that redhead to visit more often? Or maybe it's something weird, like, uh, I dunno.. wanna be a tree.. what's it gonna be? I grant all sorts of wishes. But I'm not really a fairy, sort of like a genie. There's always a twist, amiright? Haha! But, yeah, seriously, if you were interested in what I was doing today—which I'm sure you're not, since you're a concieted little brat-I was just walkin' around, and then.."**_

Dipper, at first, wasn't sure what he wanted. But looking at those pictures, he had felt guilty for not recognizing them, just as he did with the people that came to visit him. He was disappointed in himself, but, that wasn't all he felt. He felt like Grunkle Stan was hiding something from him—like, why Mabel had died. Was it because of him? The pit in his stomach grew hollower everytime he heard his dead sister's name. And yet, he.. he didn't have any feelings for her. It was just a name that was matched up to a picture; a picture of a stranger, a person he would have not known ever had she not been so close. But she was so far, too. It was so confusing for him.

He looked up, watching Bill chatter away. He had no idea what the triangle was talking about anymore, but at least he had figured out his desires in the time Bill had come to a halt in his ramblings.

"**My memories. I—I want my memories back.**"

Phew! That turned out a LOT longer than I thought it would. I'm not too sure if I'm uploading another chapter tomorrow, but I should be! Please, if you read, review, favorite, or follow. They all mean a lot to me, and let me know people are interested in it enough that they want me to continue! :D Love ya!


	3. Starlight

"_**Memories, huh? Interesting choice,"**_

Bill already knew how he could use this to his advantage. He floated in a circle around Dipper, who was staring down at his feet.

"**Yeah. Memories. I want the truth..**" Dipper echoed with a small nod, avoiding eye contact with the triangle.

"_**Mm, alright, kid. But seriously—anything in the world. A-n-y-t-h-i-n-g. And you're choosing to have some.. rather **_**painful **_**memories back?"**_

_Painful?_ Dipper looked up, a bit confused as to why he used that word. Was his past that terrible? It.. actually, it made sense. Perhaps that was why Stanford was always so wary around him.. if that was the truth, then, it was what he wanted.

Bill would have been grinning so widely, anyone would be able to tell how the sociopath was working this to his angle. _**"Well, if that's what you want, I won't stop you." **_The demon sighed, trying to play it as cool as possible. Was it bad he was so excited for this? He held out his small hand, which began to blaze in an azure flame.

Dipper was just about to shake it, when he forced his hand back. **"Wait.. n—no catch? Isn't there a catch?"** He said, squinting suspiciously. Maybe he hadn't been trying to listen to Bill's words beforehand, but he at least caught that little line**—**_but there's always a catch, amiright?_

"_**The only catch is that you might not like what you see," **_Bill shrugged, hand still outstretched. He folded his idle one, narrowing his eye a bit. _**"You want the truth, don't you? I'll give it to you."**_

Dipper stared at Bill's hand, and then back to his own. It was a whole minute—which felt more like a century—before he shook the demon's hand.

"_**You made the right decision, Pine Tree."**_

The next day, Dipper awoke, not feeling much different than he had just yesterday. He must have passed out immediately after the deal, because he noticed he woke up on the floor. He stretched, back sore and the bags under his eyes heavy. He tossed on a t-shirt and some basketball shorts before heading to the bathroom to wash up.

He brushed his teeth, then spit out the nasty-flavored toothpaste and looked up in the mirror. He gazed at himself in the mirror, noticing a tiny red splatter just in the corner. He leaned forward, studying it. Was that.. blood? He ran his finger over it, and closed his eyes.

"_YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE BRAT!"_

Pain flashed in Dipper's left cheek, causing his eyes to fly open as he stumbled backwards. It all came back to him in a matter of seconds.

_He was standing over the sink, which was still running. Stanford was bashing his face into the corner of the sharp marble, causing blood to spray onto the mirror. "You.. I hate you. If you ever come _near _me again, I'll tear you a new asshole. Hear me, ya' worthless piece of crap? No wonder your parents sent you here. Probably couldn't stand having ya' around, being the damn annoyance ya' are!"_

Dipper gripped the doorknob to the locked bathroom door, banging against it with his back. It caused a few cheap, tacky vases to fall off the shelves and shatter. Tears ran down his face as he gripped his chest. Was that.. really what happened?

A knock on the door caused him to trip forward, landing on his elbow. He gave a sharp squeal in reply to the pain, crawling backwards as he heard the knock again.

"**Dipper? You in there? Everything alright?**"

_Stan._

No. He—he couldn't even listen to his terrifying voice without feeling his heart race. The cause of his pain.. was just outside his door. He sobbed quietly, pulling a towel over his face and hoping to dear God that his great-uncle would leave.

"**Dipper? Dipper! Are you hurt? Can you hear me, kid?**"

He watched at the silhouette of Stan's feet in the crack just under the door, staying as quiet as possible—which was hard, considering he was practically hyperventilating at this point. His voice trembled as he managed to work up the courage to squeak, **"F—fine, I'm fine! I'll be out in j—just a second!**"

Stan stood for a while, but Dipper saw his feet move out of the way. He sighed a breath of relief, and stood up shakily. The water in the sink had started to overflow, so he turned it off quickly and started mopping up the floor. He closed his eyes, which were puffy and sore from his distraught crying, and tried to take his mind off of the memories that started coming back to him.

Every single one about Stan was more terrifying than the last. That man did nothing but abuse him. No wonder Bill had told him that he wouldn't like what he saw..

It was about half an hour later before Dipper finally came down, eyes bloodshot. He was nervous, and his whole body felt hot—he knew that if he was caught, Stan would beat him again. That was what.. he always did.. what he always had done. Beaten him senselessly. He touched his cheek, lips trembling.

He cautiously made his way into the kitchen, glad to see that nobody was around. He was hungry.. there had to be something to eat in here. He looked around, opening empty cupboards and a barely stocked fridge. He grabbed a box of leftover Chinese food, opening it and looking at the remnants of some sort of noodle. It'd have to do. He didn't want to use chopsticks, so he looked around for a fork. He finally found the drawer with the silverware, happening to glance at his left arm.

There were tiny cuts on it—deep, but still relatively small—that seemed to match the prongs of a.. fork.

He remembered again.

_Stan had yanked his arm, holding up a fork and immediately stabbing down. Dipper screamed out in pain, tears streaming down his face as his tormentor continued to stab, over, and over. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE PAIN YOU CAUSE ME? You've cost me.. everything. My happiness is gone, and it's because of YOU. Can't you just get out of my damn life, you worthless piece of—"_

"**Dipper?**"

He dropped the food, whipping around to see Stan looming in the entryway to the kitchen. He felt the lump in his throat grow bigger, blood roaring in his ears. He started to cry again, trembling as he slowly backed up into a corner.

"**Whoa, easy, kid. Are you al—**"

"**PLEASE! Please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Please! Please.. p—please.. please.. I'm.. sorry..**" Dipper screamed, his voice faltering into a high-pitched, falsetto whisper.

Stan slowly started walking forward, holding out his hands in the least threatening way possible. Dipper saw this the opposite way, of course, and screamed again, running past his great uncle and up to his room. He slammed and locked the door, flinging himself onto his bed.

He cried himself to sleep. He was so tired from the night before, and waking up to a real life nightmare, that it didn't take him very long to fall into a slumber.

He couldn't escape, though. In his dreams, more memories, this time of Wendy, Soos, even Mabel before she had died—all torturing him to his wit's end. He couldn't wake up, either. He was trapped.

However, in the middle of one of his nightmares, everything stopped. It happened to pause at a particularly horrifying scene of Wendy and Soos trying to run over a fleeing Dipper with the golf cart. The color from the whole dream evaporated, and everything paused, except for his own actions.

"_**I warned you, Pine Tree. I told you, but.. you just didn't want to listen."**_

He turned around to see Bill, arms folded and worry evident in his eye. Of course, this was just another act the demon was putting up.

"**Bill!**" Dipper exclaimed, an exasperated smile growing on the pre-teen's face. He was his only _real _friend, right? He had never hurt the boy.

Bill smiled—on the inside, of course—his plan was working. Not like he didn't expect it to. He floated close to Dipper, putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him he was safe here.

As safe as he could be, with a tricky demon like himself.

Dipper threw his arms around the triangle, just wanting to have comfort for once in his life. He realized that in this cruel world, Bill was the only one that could help him. He trusted him with all his heart, which was another mistake on the twelve-year-old's part.

Bill was surprised, giving Dipper an awkward pat on the back. He had no idea how to handle this, which he.. probably should have thought through before.

"_**Easy, kid. Uh.. how are you.. holdin' up? What with the memories, and all."**_

"**I'm scared, Bill. He wants to hurt me.. but you won't let him hurt me, right? He'll—he'll kill me. I know he will. But you'll keep me safe..**"

"**Right?**"

Ahh! Thanks for reading! I'm not sure if the next chapter will be up today, but there's a pretty good chance it will be. Plot twist, amiright? Heh.. don't worry. Dipper will be back to normal soon! Hopefully. I'm not really sure what evil plans Bill has in store for him.. :U

If you read, please review, favorite, or follow! They all mean a lot to me! 3


	4. Pawn Shop Blues

AHH I'M BACK

No words, just.. here you go. Here's the chapter

Why was it getting so insanely hard to avoid them? It was like they were _trying _to come around him more often. Today, he had awoken to a knock on his door, to which, of course, he did not answer. He remained under his bed covers, pillows covering his body to try to protect him from any strikes Stan might give him.

He heard the door unlock, and his muscles tensed, hands slowly moving up to his sweaty, hot cheeks under all the fluff. He felt a slight tilt in weight as Stan sat himself down on the bed, managing to hear some voices coming from farther away. He couldn't make them out, but he knew it was either Wendy or Soos. Or maybe it was both?

As the covers and pillows were thrown off from his body, he curled up in a ball, not even trying to escape now. His best option was to run out the window, but he'd surely die then. But perhaps.. perhaps that was the best route for him to take. Death didn't seem so bad anymore.

"**Whoa, dude.. kid looks worse than I thought."**

This comment caused Dipper to jerk his head up, eyes bloodshot and tired as he slowly scooted back so that his back was pressed up against the wall. He felt a burning in the back of his neck, but tried to ignore it—they didn't seem to have any weapons, but fists worked just as well. His stomach flipped nervously, a ringing in his mind going off like an alarm.

Stan didn't move an inch, just staring at his great-nephew for a long while. It was silent, except for the occasional awkward creaks of the house.

"**Dipper.. you know we'd never hurt you, right?" **Stan started cautiously, **"We all love you, uh, very much. So did.." ** His voice choked up, deciding not to finish for the sake of everyone's already high emotions.

"**Th—that's not true. You hurt me.. you hurt me all the time.." **Dipper retorted, immediately regretting his words and putting his hands up defensively.

Stan cocked an eyebrow, but just shook his head. **"Dipper, when did I ever hurt you? When did any of us ever hurt you..?"**

A few hours passed, each filled with one more twisted sorrowful tale than the next. Dipper told them of every torturous thing they had ever done to him, wondering why they didn't remember. He believed what he saw with every fiber of his being, and spoke with confidence. When he finished, he had a childish, smug look on his face, like he had just proved the whole world wrong.

Wendy and Soos did a terrible job of holding back their emotions—which were a big mix of fear, anger, confusion, and guilt—and ended up going downstairs for a bit to calm down.

Stan breathed out, looking at the ground. He wasted no time, however. **"Did you get these memories in the hospital? Or.. did.. someone tell you these things? Maybe in exchange for something?"**

"**No, I got them after I made the deal with Bill."**

_Bill? I should have damn known.._

"**Deal? What did he ask for?" **Stan got straight to the point, making sure not to sound to surprised so he didn't scare Dipper back into hiding.

Dipper seemed to have forgotten about the memories, a bit happy to have someone to talk to. At least the words coming out of his mouth weren't threatening. **"Well, he didn't ask for anything.. he just said that I wouldn't like what I saw. But I wanted my memories back, because when you talked about Mabel, I felt sad. But now I know I should be happy, because she was just like you. Mean, and evil, and horrible.. and.."**

Stan gave him a stern look, treating him like he was a lot younger than he really was. Ever since the 'accident'—although now he could confirm that it was no accident—he had acted differently towards the tween. He didn't want to provoke him too much, but he needed information out of him, as harsh as it sounded.

Dipper stared into Stan's eyes, tipping a frown. He could honestly no longer imagine anyone like Wendy beating him, much less Soos—and now he realized that Stan was just the same. He didn't understand why Bill would lie to him, but.. if it was true, than—

"**Dipper.. I think that Bill was lying to you,"**

"**..really?" **Dipper mumbled, too emotionally exhausted to have much of a reaction. He looked down to the overturned sheets, running his fingers along them.

"**Yeah. In fact, I, uh, think he was the one who took your memories in the first place."**

With those words, Stan carefully placed his hand on Dipper's shoulder, who surprisingly did not flinch. **"But.. he said.. he would give me the truth.."**

"**Where's your journal?" **Stan inquired, to which he received a half-hearted point to under Mabel's bed. He retrieved it, and sat back down on Dipper's bed, now sitting closer and putting a hand on his great-nephew's leg.

He flipped to the page on Bill Cipher, pointing to a few notes.

_LIAR_

_DO NOT SUMMON AT ALL COSTS!_

Dipper read it over a bunch of times, trying not to believe the words he saw. He closed the book, not even wanting to look at Stan. **"I'm.. tired," **He said slowly, his gaze not moving from his pillows, which lay on the ground.

Stan sighed, and gave an awkward pat on the back before getting up and heading out the door. There was.. a lot to think about, for both him and Dipper.

As soon as he left, Dipper got up and closed the door, making his bed only to tear up his fresh sheets and slip under. It wasn't long before he fell into a deep sleep, and met the one thing he had thought he could trust.

"**Bill!"**

"_**Hey, Pine Tree. How ya' doin'?" **_The triangle said casually, turning around to face the angry amnesiac.

"**You.. you lied to me..! Why!?" **Dipper exclaimed, hands balling into fists as he tried his best to look threatening.

Bill had a look on his face that would tell anyone he was smirking, even without a mouth. _**"Whatever do you mean? I've done nothing but give you the cold, hard facts. Were they too much to handle?"**_

"**N—no! You put all these.. fake memories in my head, on purpose! Why? Why did you d—why did you do that?"**

Bill laughed, making a 'tsk' sound. _**"I knew that old man would find it out sooner or later. Honestly, I didn't think it'd take him this long!"**_

"**Wh—what?"**

"_**The real truth is, kid, that your sister ain't dead. But you don't need her, because with your new and improved memories, you won't need anyone but me! And just to make sure you know that.. I think I'll stick around with you for while. Say goodbye to your privacy!**_

_**It wasn't like you had any in the first place."**_


	5. Rootless

Hey! Quick note.. uh.. this chapter has a bit more gore in it, and I'm really debating on whether to change the rating to M or not. If you think I should, please let me know in a review! Thanks! Cx

She had been walking across this empty void for hours on end; in reality, she had been gone for almost two weeks. She didn't know where she was, and was always afraid to put one foot in front of the other. Everything was black. There was literally no sense of direction, no hope that it would come to an end. She didn't know where she was, but just because she was losing, didn't mean she was lost. She stopped abruptly, feet sore and tired as she crouched before sitting on the ground. She looked around, seeing nothing but ebony darkness for miles.

At first, she had ran, but after she realized that she was going nowhere fast, she had started walking. She felt hollow, and empty—like the whole world of nothingness she saw was against her. She wanted to cry, but for some reason, she couldn't. Emotions overwhelmed her, but she couldn't break enough to let them out. It was a terrible feeling, too, like she had grown heartless.

Where was everyone? Dipper, Grunkle Stan, Wendy, Soos.. Waddles.. why weren't they here? She vaguely remembered the last time she saw them. She had been falling.. and then..

The earth was soundless, but she wondered if she even was on earth anymore. She didn't remember any place that looked like this. She gave a sigh and lay on the ground, pulling her sweater collar over her mouth and curling into a tight ball. It was cold out here. Her eyelids grew heavy, and though she pleaded not to fall asleep, her begging was in vain. She fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

Dipper, on the other hand, was wide awake. He sat in bed, just waiting for the lies to fill up his head again. But it was oddly still in his room, which made him worried. Perhaps Bill had just given him an empty threat? He looked outside the window, noticing it was daybreak. How long had he been asleep? He got up, actually wearing his 'normal' clothes today. An orange shirt, blue vest, grey cargo shorts, white socks with black sneakers.. even his old hat. He looked like Dipper again.

He murmured something under his breath and headed downstairs, smelling something delicious. Breakfast? It was pretty early for that..

Nonetheless, he went into the kitchen to investigate, finding Stan making some scrambled eggs, pancakes, and hash. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

It was a silent breakfast. He didn't want to say anything, and neither did Stan. What was he supposed to say? He mumbled something along the lines of 'thanks' and went back up to his room, leaving his great uncle to his thoughts.

He started reading the journal again, purposely skipping Bill's page. He didn't need a book to tell him what a fool he had been to trust the demon for even a second. He felt a burning in the back of his neck, like he was being watched by a thousand, judging eyes all at once. It made him extremely anxious, so much to the point where he couldn't sit still. He felt uncomfortable and awkward. Was he doing something wrong? He glanced around, trying to ignore it as he read some more.

No.. no. He couldn't stand it. He threw the book across the room, standing up on his bed and putting his hands to his ears. He could hear the whispers now, their hushed tones, hiding words that made his stomach drop.

After an hour of freaking out, he finally sat down, the feeling subsiding. It was starting to rain, which made him a bit wary—it was the middle of July. Why was it raining? He looked outside, the sky grey and gloomy. Not a patch of sunlight. He decided to ignore it for the time, and sat back down on the bed. His muscles were tense, and though he wanted to fall asleep, it seemed impossible.

He couldn't relax. He rested his head on his pillow, pulling the covers over his face as he stared into the darkness. It was stuffy and hot, but he just wanted to be left alone.

_Psst._

He felt his heart skip a beat at the sound, body growing hot.

_Psst!_

Dipper threw open his sheets, not seeing anything but his empty, sullen room. The occasional pitter-patter of rain on his window filling up the void of silence.

_HEY! HELLO!_

"What!?" Dipper finally yelled, gritting his teeth. A crack of lightening lit up his room for a moment, leaving just as quickly as it came.

_Hahah, nothing. I just wanted to see how easy it would be to annoy you. Looks like it's pretty easy!_

Bill. Was this what he had meant by 'say goodbye to your privacy?' Of course. It had to be. He bit his lip, deciding just to ignore the little devil running around in his brain.

_Boy, these are some pretty great memories you have here. I can't believe I made all of these! I really am great, aren't I?_

Dipper did not reply.

_Hm. Well, I think I'm great, so.. hey! Here's a wonderful memory of you and your sister. Oh, sorry, did I say wonderful? I meant _terrifying.

Dipper collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes rolling back up into his head as he was pushed into the dreamscape.

Turned out it wasn't a memory, but more like one that was about to be made.

He was in the same darkness now, scared by the emptiness this place provided. He didn't know where he was, but he started running forward, not hearing anything at first. As he ran for about half a mile, he started hearing faint screams off in the distance—Mabel. Although he didn't have any good memories with her, thanks to Bill, he knew that it was her. He started running again, eventually running out of breath and forcing himself to at least speed-walk towards the sound.

Mabel couldn't see—she was able to see herself before, but now, her vision was replaced with off-white and red. She felt extreme pain, like something had stabbed her in the eyes, the neck, the back.. everywhere. She couldn't move, either, as she was unknowingly chained to something. She tried to lurch forward, but was held down, her head hitting the ground now. She kept crying out for help, tears—which were stained red—ran down her cheek. The heavy smell of metallic blood made her cringe, trying to hold down the vomit that threatened to leave her mouth if she was not careful.

Dipper finally worked up the energy to run again, finally seeing a spot of light just about a mile away. And under it.. he could see someone, covered in red, with heavy metal chains tied to their wrists.

"Mabel?" He exclaimed, unable to say it very loud due to his labored breathing.

Mabel snapped her head up, flailing around wildly. "DIPPER! DIPPER! I'M H—HERE!" She cried, a smile growing on her lips. She noticed that when she moved, the chains seemed to get heavier, and the pain in her body grew worse. She eventually collapsed, unable to stand against the weight.

He finally arrived on the scene, wanting to puke. She had a blindfold covering her eyes, but she had small stab marks on her cheeks, forehead, collarbone, and.. the back of her neck, as he moved around her to investigate further. There were probably more, but he couldn't think about that now. He wasted no time, pinching his nose so that he could breath through the disgusting smell of blood, and trying to untangle her from the chains she was in. But it was to no avail, as every time he moved it even a little, they became tighter and more intertwined. He gave a frustrated groan and decided just to stop her bleeding, applying pressure to her back, which seemed to be the biggest wound.

"Dipper.." Mabel whispered, unable to stop crying and smiling at the same time.

He didn't know how to comfort her, as all the memories he had of her were twisted, strange, and insane—so he just decided to give her some sort of an awkward hug. "It's, um.. going to be okay.." He mumbled, trying not to be grossed out by the blood that was now all over his shirt.

It was a few hours of just him saying somewhat comforting words before he noticed something.

She had stopped breathing. He immediately turned to her, tearing off her blindfold—which he didn't know why he didn't do in the first place—and seeing her glazed, cold eyes. He started breathing heavily, checking her heartbeat.

Nothing.

Crap! He started trembling now, holding her in his arms. "Mabel! Mabel!" He whispered, shaking her occasionally. It was no use. She was.. gone..

"Dipper!" She suddenly said, though her body was still dead. "Dipper! Dipper! Dipper!"

Over and over, her corpse screamed his name, which made him drop her and stumble backwards, holding his head in his hands again. "St—"

"STOP!"

BOO! Sorry, did I scare you? Hahahhhhh.. yeah. Uh, gonna have to leave it off here. This chapter ended up being a bit longer then I expected, but that's a good thing! As I said, leave a review saying whether or not I should change the rating to M or keep it at T. I'd say this chapter could be an M, but I don't know if the whole story itself would be a T. But I don't wanna be breaking any rules! uvu

ANYWAYS! Thanks for reading, maybe another chapter will be up today, since I reeeeally enjoyed writing this chapter. If you liked it, leave a review, favorite, or follow! They all mean lots to me! :D Love ya!


	6. Angels Forever

WHOA, guys, I'm back. I deleted that one chapter because I kept reading over it and realized how extremely bad it was. I just.. I don't know where I was going with that one. xD So here's a new chapter! Doesn't have too much action, but it's going to give Dipper a bigger reason to get off his sad little ass and do some stuff.

"_STOP!"_

He jolted up right in bed, hearing his name over and over again. He woke up to a haze, his eyes misty with tears and his head feeling extremely light. He was being shook.. he glanced up finally, seeing Stan with a frantic look on his face.

"Wh—I'm awake.."

"Oh—oh, thank god. It's four o'clock, Dipper!" Stan sighed, relief obvious in his voice.

"In the morning? Jesus Chr—"

"No. It's four o'clock in the _afternoon._"

"Wh.. what? Why did you let me sleep for that long?"

"Well, ya.. ya sorta needed it. I dunno, just.. I got scared. Ya started screaming again, and.."

"Again?" Dipper interrupted, running a sweaty hand through his equally sweaty hair. He didn't know he sleeptalked. Or screamed, whatever.

"Ya always do, but it's been getting worse," Stan explained, seating himself on the bed. Dipper immediately scooted back a bit, still very wary of Stan. If he could get these damn memories out of his head, it wouldn't be his initial reaction.. he felt like it was his fault.

Well, it was his fault. He had made the deal, hadn't he? He couldn't have asked for Mabel to come back, no. He had to have the fucking _truth_. _Nice one, Dipper, _he thought, not at all paying attention to what Stan was staying. He decided to tune back in after he had made himself feel even more guilty for this twisted fate he was being given.

"..talked to ya lately?"

Dipper gave a confused look, obviously not paying attention at the right time. "What?"

"Has Bill visited you recently," Stan repeated slowly.

"Oh. Uh.. no," Dipper lied, looking away. He didn't want to burden Stan with his problems.. he had put them all in this mess, anyways. His great uncle didn't deserve any of the shit he was going through.

"Alright.." Stan said, obviously trying to steer the conversation somewhere less awkward. "You're probably hungry,"

"No.. I'm okay."

"Ya sure? I mean, I don't mind making ya somethin',"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure. I'll probably.. eat later.." Dipper trailed off, lying yet again. He was starving, but he didn't want to keep laboring Stan.

"Mm. Alright. I'll be downstairs.. holler if ya need anything,"

With that, Stan left, closing the door behind him. Good. Now it was just him and the demon playing around in his head. After he heard Stan depart for sure, he locked his door and turned around, opening the curtains. It was getting close to sunset. He could hardly believe he had slept for that long..

He turned around, wondering where his journal was. All this sleep made him feel confused, like he was still stumbling around in a world that was nothing but a figment of his imagination. He held his head in his hands, finally feeling rested for once. He didn't have a lot of energy, but he wasn't tired, either. Maybe he was just lazy.

Ah, there it was. He grabbed it from off Mabel's bed, a bit uncomfortable at first. He remembered the dream vividly, and found himself so lost in thought that he sat laid down on the pristine bed that Mabel had made for what seemed to be so long ago. It had hardly been touched.. he sat up, gripping the sheets in his hands. He didn't know how to handle the loss of his sibling anymore. He was.. all out of emotions, and that frustrated him to no end. He was falling into depression and it was impossible to escape.

The next few weeks were dreamless and went by very slowly. He rarely moved out of his bed anymore. He knew that he had to get up and get on with his own life, but he had no energy or desire to do _anything, _much less seek out others. He didn't understand why he felt such a need to be so isolated from others, as he had always figured that being depressed would make you want to be with friends. But now that it was here, it was taking control of his life in every aspect possible. When people said nice things to him and tried to cheer him up, he just felt dramatic and whiny. He felt in a way, he.. he deserved the solitude.

It took him a month to start getting everything cleared out in his mind. He had to find the truth. What did Bill have planned, and why did it require the demon to manipulate his memories like this? He still had the dream still fresh in his mind. The vision of Mabel's corpse screaming his name.. and he had no way to save her. Was this his fate? To be forever damned to guilt and depression?

No, no. He couldn't let those thoughts take over again. Was Bill still watching him? Of course.. he was.. always watching..

It was late. He decided to go to bed, expecting another blank, black dream, which was what he ended up getting.. at first.

He found that he could alter the dream this time. He could create a whole world for himself. Strange.

He pictured a lively theme park at first, then switched over to an empty street lot. The hum of the lights gave him a thrill, and he felt free as he ran through the desolate world he imagined. He ran for hours through the streets, never feeling as alone and crazy as he did now. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing anymore, but this gave him the most amazing feeling. All his worries were gone for the short time he was able to have control of his dream. He eventually stopped, though his energy was boundless. He felt no burning sting in his throat, nor did he hear the heartbeat in his head drumming along to his ragged breaths.

He grinned, laughing much too hard as he fell to the ground and stared up at the star-filled sky. He was so happy, he could die—but this didn't mean much, as he wanted to die a lot. But if he were to die, right here, right now.. at least he'd have gotten a taste of happiness before his demise. Right? Wow. He just made himself more depressed.

He sighed, and the gravelly, hard road changed into a soft, grassy landscape. He dug his fingers into the earth, like he was gripping onto the small bit of bliss he felt through this dream. Maybe things were starting to go up.. this had to be the end of the rollercoaster.

For the first time in his life, Dipper realized..

_Things get better._

He couldn't give up now. Someone out there was watching him, waiting for him to take action again. He sat up, his gaze not leaving the sky. He knew what he had to do. He had to get it through his head that moping around and feeling sorry for himself was not going to solve his problems. He felt his heart swell up and emotions burst inside of him like a fireworks show, butterflies flitting around in his stomach. He knew there were going to be ups and downs, but he was looking forward to it. He wanted to see what life had in store for him. He wanted to experience what he could to the fullest. He could solve all his problems.. on his own.

He couldn't describe this feeling. He felt like he had a meaning again.. he wanted to have fun, he wanted to get the most out of life what he could.

But if he was going to do that, he needed to get Bill out of the way. If he could just figure out what the stupid fucking demon wanted out of all this, he could try and live normally again, even without Ma—

She was still alive.

His sister was still alive.

How could he have forgotten that? He stood up, running his hands through his hair with excitement. He could get her back. He could fix everything.. and.. and..

It was going to be so great. It was going to be perfect.

It was going to be okay.


End file.
